Surprises
by loveadubdub
Summary: She's never liked surprises.  She likes charts and lists and plans.  Two pink lines on a pregnancy test are not part of that plan...  Dreams, Disasters, and Everything in Between and Close to Where You Are universe.


**SURPRISES**

_A/N: This story fits into the "Dreams, Disasters, and Everything in Between" and "Close to Where You Are" universe. Enjoy!_

… … …

She's never been very good with surprises.

She just doesn't care for them. When she was seven, her dads threw her a surprise birthday party with all her family and a few kids from her class, and she was in tears within seconds. She just doesn't like them. She likes lists. And plans. And order. She doesn't like it when her normal subway route is delayed. She doesn't like it when her favorite diner switches up the lunch specials unexpectedly.

She _really _doesn't like staring down at two pink lines and realizing that some surprises are even more horrible than others.

It's an awful thing to think, and she knows it. There's not even a second when she doesn't know it. She also can't force herself into caring too much about whether she's a horrible person or whether she has no heart. She can't even really think about it because there's only one word going through her head, and it's basically on loop.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no._

Two pink lines on a pee stick are not part of her plan, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't even want to believe that it's real, so she does what any logical person of denial would do. She throws the pregnancy test into the trash and makes herself a peanut butter sandwich.

Noah gets home around five, and they spend a pretty normal night eating Indian takeout and watching sports highlights. She doesn't even protest when he changes the channel to ESPN, so she figures that should be the first sign that something is definitely wrong. He seems oblivious, though, and just throws an around her and lets her head drop to his shoulder.

By 11 PM, she's crying in the bathroom.

It takes him a little while to actually come check on her, but eventually, he must either hear her or wonder what she's doing in there for so long because he comes knocking on the door asking if she's okay. Her first instinct is to tell him that yes, she's perfectly fine. She knows he can hear her, though, and she knows he knows she's crying. So instead, she just opens the door and turns away from him before he can get a good look at her tear-stained face. He asks her what's wrong, and there's really no point in lying, so she just kicks the trashcan and takes a tiny bit of pleasure in the way its contents spill across the floor. He doesn't pay much attention at first, instead keeping his focus on her and probably wondering what the hell's gotten into her. But then she sees him in the mirror, and he's looking down and obviously spotting exactly what she meant him to see. And then he _smiles _like he's actually happy.

And she's never wanted to hit anyone so badly in her entire life.

He spends the whole night hugging her and kissing her and telling her how "fucking awesome" it's going to be, and he never once asks her why she was crying in the bathroom or why she isn't smiling now. It's almost like he thinks that if he ignores those things, they'll just go away. Or maybe if he keeps talking about how amazing it's all going to be, he'll somehow trick her into believing it. She doesn't actually come out and say that she hates the entire idea, but she keeps hoping he'll get the picture.

Their life is good right now. They don't need any huge changes because they're finally settled and comfortable, and things just feel _right. _She's been in New York for eight years, he's been here for three. He's got a job that he doesn't completely _hate, _and she's taking a break for the first time in years. And by taking a break, she means not actually employed by a show. Her life certainly isn't relaxing and peaceful, though, because she still has public appearances and a little bit of press. And she's been workshopping a new show that's waiting on funding. It's a show that she really loves and _wants _to see staged.

With a screaming infant, she'll be watching the staging from the audience.

After three days of constantly reminding herself that murder is a very serious crime, she finally loses it. She's been telling herself to stay calm and focused, but then Noah says he wants to tell people. Specifically, he wants to tell his _mother. _She knows that can't happen because that much excitement can only possibly end in disaster. She considers just telling him that she doesn't want to tell anyone until a few more weeks have passed, but that would be a blatant lie. So instead, she just looks away for a second and says, "Noah, I don't know what I want to do yet…"

When she looks back at him, she thinks she might literally be watching his heart break, and it's the worst thing she can imagine. His face falls, and all she can do is just pray that he doesn't start crying or something. If he starts crying, she's going to lose it completely, and she sort of needs to have it together right now. This is a lot more difficult than she imagined, and she can't let herself get emotional about it.

"What are you talking about?" His voice is even and controlled, and she knows he's having to physically force it to be that way.

"I'm just not sure yet."

"Not sure of _what?" _he asks sharply. "We're having a _baby."_

And she looks down because she can't stand to see his eyes. "Maybe."

Things go really bad really quickly after that. He calls her selfish and tells her she's horrible, and then he starts yelling in a way that might actually scare her in any other situation. He's never yelled at her like this, and she hates it but she also thinks she kind of deserves it. He screams a lot of stuff about her being selfish, but it's hard to make it all out between the cussing and the insults. She just stands there and says nothing until the people downstairs start banging on the ceiling with a broom. Noah stops then and just grabs his keys and slams the door so hard that the entire apartment shakes.

She's all alone, but it sort of feels better this way.

Hours later, though, he's still not home and she's getting worried. She texts him and asks where he is and if he's coming home. He sends back a reply of, _"Fuck you," _and she finally starts crying. She tries to calm herself down with some hot tea and a shower, but it doesn't work. Then she goes to bed, but she can't sleep because she's scared to death, and she wants him home safe and lying beside her. She lies awake all night imagining terrible things and never feeling so lonely in her entire life. He finally comes home at 6 AM, and she pretends to be asleep as he undresses and calls a message into the school, asking for a sub because he's "sick."

His sickness smells suspiciously like Jack Daniels, but she keeps her eyes and her mouth shut tightly against this revelation.

Knowing how angry he was hours ago, she expects him to go sleep in the living room or something, but he climbs into bed behind her and reaches for her almost instinctively. It feels so good that she almost doesn't mind the overpowering smell of alcohol or the fact that she can tell he's been smoking. She just wants him to hold her and pretend like everything is okay because _this _is what she doesn't want to lose.

He's pissed again in the morning.

Well, to be fair, it's 2:30 in the afternoon, but she wakes up when she hears him get out of bed and head to the bathroom. The shower comes on, and she gets up and starts cleaning up the bedroom a little. She picks his clothes up off the floor where he left them and puts them in the laundry basket. Then she does the same with the bed sheets because they smell like stale cigarettes and a hint of whiskey. She tries to stay busy until she hears the water shut off, and then she braces herself for the confrontation. She hopes, of course, that he got it all out of his system last night and that he's now ready to have a calm, intelligent conversation about it. She's not banking on it, though.

When she hears him coming out of the bathroom, she starts digging through the laundry basket, sorting the whites and the darks even though they don't do laundry until the weekend. He doesn't say anything when he enters the bedroom, and she tries to appear oblivious while he gets dressed and throws his towel on the floor. She thinks he does it just to antagonize her, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she just plays dumb.

"You didn't go to work today?"

The only answer she gets is a short, "No."

"Well, do you want to go out for breakfast then?"

It's two in the afternoon, but this is New York City. That's not that unusual.

"No."

Rachel stands up, bothered immensely by the tension in the room. She hates it, and she almost thinks she prefers the yelling. She tries to ignore it, though, and just pretend like everything isn't awful. "I'll make lunch then."

"I'm going out."

And then she can't take it anymore. She stares at him as he does up the buttons on his shirt, and then she shakes her head. "Noah, you can't just _ignore _me," she says flatly.

"You ignore me, so why the hell not?" He straightens out his collar and doesn't look at her.

"When have I _ignored _you?" she demands, and she's done trying to keep the peace. He's being childish and ridiculous, and she's not going to stand around while he works her into a passive-aggressive state of depression. If he wants to fight, then she'll fight. The neighbors are at work, so if he wants to lay into her, she's giving him the perfect opportunity.

He glares at her, and she knows that look. It's the one that always prefaces some smartass sarcastic comment that will drive her insane. "Oh, you know, just when you decided to make decisions about my kid without consulting me, that's all."

"I haven't _made _any decisions," she snaps back. "I wanted to talk to you about this, but you're acting like a five year old and ignoring me every time I try to _speak!"_

"So fucking speak, Rachel," he tells her hatefully. "God knows nothing's ever stopped you from talking before."

"You don't get to just be an asshole to me because you're too immature to have discussions like adults. I am _trying _to talk to you about this, and you're just being a _dick!"_

He glares again, and then he actually rolls his eyes. "Oh, please," he shakes his head. "Like it actually _matters _what I think! You think I haven't been through this bullshit before? I know my goddamn opinion doesn't mean _shit."_

"That's not fair." She stares at him, hating him a little for bringing that up and using it against her. He doesn't seem to care, though.

"No, you know what's not _fair? _The fact that there's a ten year old out there that I don't even _know. _And then when I finally get a second chance, you don't even want to _have _the baby. But seriously, Rachel? What would be so fucking awful about having a baby with me?"

"Nothing!" she says, totally exasperated. "I _want _that, Noah, I just don't want it right _now."_

It's the first time she's said it out loud, and it doesn't feel nearly as terrible as she thought it would. She feels desperate, and she just wants him to understand. He doesn't seem to care at all, though, much less understand.

"Nice to see you've already made your mind up," he says bitterly. "It's like déjà vu."

"I'm not Quinn," she says firmly. "And we're not sixteen, so stop acting like it!"

There's silence for a few seconds, and they stare at each other. She gets the feeling that he's challenging her, but she's going to stand her ground. Finally, he seems to get it together enough to respond.

"You're right. We're not sixteen. So that makes it even worse."

He doesn't come out and say it. That makes _her _even worse. He doesn't say it, but she knows it's what he means. She doesn't even say anything back because at this point, she feels like it's a lost cause. She just walks past him and enters the recently vacated bathroom. She stands at the sink and stares at herself. She looks like shit- her slept on wet hair, bags under her eyes, swollen cheeks. It's terrible. She doesn't even move until she hears the door open and shut and the key turn from the outside. Then she lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding and starts crying again.

They spend the next week actively ignoring each other.

He spends more time at school than he normally does, sending her short text messages claiming extra practice. She doesn't really care because when they're both home, all they do is sit in silence and try to pretend like things aren't as terrible as they really are. Their apartment isn't nearly big enough to make ignoring each other even remotely comfortable, so it's better when he works late and she goes to bed early.

She makes an appointment with her doctor and finds out for sure. She already knew, of course, but hearing from the doctor that she is, in fact, pregnant still knocks the breath out of her a little. She's ten weeks apparently, and the only thing that really means to her is that she has to make her decision more quickly than anticipated. She talks to her doctor about it, and he gives her some phone numbers and some literature that says nothing she hasn't already read on the Internet.

It all makes her feel terrible.

She waits for him to get home, and she knows that no matter what decision they make, she's going to be unhappy regardless. There's no right answer, and whatever they choose isn't suddenly going to make everything okay.

He gets home and goes straight for the fridge, pulling out a beer and settling into the living room because she's in the kitchen. She tells herself to keep it together and follows him even though she knows he doesn't want her to. She stands by the couch and looks at him, and he purposely ignores her. Finally, she sits down and pulls one knee underneath her.

"I went to the doctor today."

"Oh, thanks for telling me." His sarcasm defense grates on every one of her nerves, and he knows it.

"I didn't think you cared."

"Yeah," he nods. _"I'm _the one who doesn't care." He never takes his eyes away from the television, and it makes her want to scream.

Still, she ignores his attitude and focuses on the whole point of this conversation. "I'm ten weeks."

"You'd better hurry then."

"Noah, _stop," _she says sharply. "Are you going to talk to me, or are you going to fight with me?"

That gets to him because he flips the TV off and turns his head to look at her. "Why don't you just admit that you don't give a shit what I say? You're gonna do whatever the fuck you want to do anyway, so why are you even wasting your time?"

"You're being unreasonable."

"No, I'm being _honest. _You never care about what other people think because you have to be in fucking control of _everything, _and you always have. You act like I haven't known you your whole damn life!"

She lets out a very wavering breath and really wishes that he'd just come right out and tell her he hates her because she can see it there just behind his eyes. But what is she supposed to do? He won't listen to her. She can't reason with him. She can't even tell him _why _this isn't what she wants right now. No matter what she says, he's going to turn it around to her not caring about him, and that's not _true. _

He goes to bed without her, and she stays up doing nothing until 2 AM. Then she falls asleep on the couch and doesn't get up to tell him goodbye in the morning when he leaves for work.

She books an appointment at one of the clinics her doctor recommended, and she tells him someone has to go with her. To her surprise, he takes off work, but he doesn't speak to her or even acknowledge her at all. She feels terrible and sick. She's scared, and she really wishes he'd just hug her or hold her hand, but he does nothing. He gets dressed without speaking to her, and he doesn't look at her once in the taxi. It's raining really hard, and she's glad because not only does it match her mood, it also means that there are no people standing outside protesting. She's read horrible things about the protesting, and she's been terrified that someone might recognize her or capture it on film. It's not that she's exceptionally famous or anything, but she's not entirely obsolete, either.

The waiting room looks like any other doctor's office. She has to fill out medical paperwork, and Noah has to sign a packet of documents saying that he'll make sure she gets home safely and assume responsibility for her after she leaves the clinic. They sit down in side by side chairs and continue to not acknowledge each other. She tries not to look around too much, but she can't help glancing. She notices that he's the only man in the entire waiting room, and she wonders if that's because people in serious relationships don't normally end up here. There is one other woman around her age, but the majority of the people here are younger. There are several teenagers, and it's not that teen pregnancy is anything novel to either of them, but when she actually glances at Noah, she can tell that he's surprised by the amount of young girls here, too.

There are magazines lying on a side table, and she wonders if most women who come for an abortion have a desire to read _Us Weekly _or _People. _Certainly the people around her do not seem too interested in catching up on the latest celebrity gossip. There is a very somber tone to them all, and the only noise comes from the occasional telephone ringing at the receptionist's desk and CNN being broadcast from the TV in the corner.

It's surreal.

Rachel never expected to find herself here. But it's just one of the many things she's never expected. She doesn't like surprises, but that didn't stop her from struggling for years in this city before things started working out. It didn't stop her from falling in love with a long-lost old schoolmate who showed back up randomly in her life. She's had some success, but when she was younger, she would have looked at twenty-six and expected her future self to already have a list of Broadway leads under her belt and the Tonys to back it up. Instead, she has two supporting roles to her name and no awards whatsoever. That's why she can't just move onto the next stage of her life yet. She still needs those leads and those awards, and she doesn't see how any of that would be possible in between diapers and bottles. She doesn't even understand how it happened. She takes her pill like clockwork every day, and she thinks it's pretty cruel that she should be one of the .3 percent who ends up pregnant anyway.

Across the waiting room, one of the younger women starts to cry, and Rachel can't help but look. She looks like she's probably college-age, and one of the friends she has with her hugs her and pats her back soothingly. It's terrible to watch, and Rachel looks away before she becomes too emotionally involved. Instead, she closes her eyes and leans her head back against the wall behind her. A few minutes later, she feels a much larger hand slip into hers, and the gentle squeeze she feels calms her down tremendously. Without thinking twice, she moves her mouth to his ear and whispers, "Can we go home?"

They make up after that.

He takes her home and babies her the whole day. She's way more emotional than she expected to be, and while she's glad she didn't go through with it, she's also still terrified and not entirely thrilled with the situation. He hugs her and apologizes and says that he should have been more supportive. And she doesn't even care if he's only be nice now because she backed out- she's just too happy to have him not hating her anymore. Instead, she gets really clingy and asks him how they're going to do it and says things are never going to be the same again. He tells her they'll make it work, and that he'll always take care of her no matter what. And she believes him because she knows it's the truth. But she's still really scared anyway.

They keep the news to themselves for a few more weeks, both agreeing to wait until after the first trimester. She starts warming up to the idea slowly but surely. She isn't sick at all, which is apparently a huge blessing. She's tired a lot more often, but that's really the only symptom she has besides the occasional headache. Noah acts like she's some breakable thing that needs a fragile sticker- constantly asking if she's alright and not letting her do _anything. _She thinks it's pretty silly, considering the fact that she's not eight months pregnant and incapable of standing up on her own. She still looks exactly the same and feels pretty much the same.

Her doctor recommends an OBGYN, and they go to the appointment together. She feels overwhelmed with the amount of information being thrown at her, but she tries to listen and take as much of it in as possible. Noah is actually paying attention, too, which is certainly a rarity because he hardly ever pays attention to _anything _that doesn't involve a scoreboard. They get to listen to the baby's heartbeat, and she can't believe how emotional it makes her feel. She doesn't cry, though, because she's trying really hard not to be that cliché. It's difficult, though, and she wonders if maybe her hormones are more out of whack than she originally anticipated.

The next Thursday, though, it all comes out.

She comes home from the store and finds Noah's little sister sitting in the hallway outside of the apartment. She's got her feet propped on the opposite wall and has her iPod in while she leans over a textbook. She looks up only when Rachel kicks her foot down and looks at her questioningly. Bekah takes her earbuds out as she closes her book and stands up, bending back down to pick up her bag and sling it over her shoulder.

"Do you make a habit of sitting in empty hallways?" Rachel asks, turning her key in the lock and opening up the apartment. Bekah follows without being asked.

"I was waiting for you," she says, dropping her bag carelessly onto the floor by the door. "I thought you'd be home, since you don't like have a job or anything."

Rachel looks at her, and she just smiles.

"Actually," she goes on like she hasn't just slipped an insult in, "I was waiting on my brother. I need some money."

Bekah's been in New York for a year and a half now. She's a sophomore at NYU, studying journalism and French and maintaining a pretty decent GPA. She was only allowed to come to New York because Rachel and Noah were already here, but it still took a lot of arm-twisting to get her mom to agree. Now she's been here for more than a year and is doing fine. They really only see her once or twice every few weeks- usually when she shows up asking for money or for food. She definitely epitomizes poor college student despite the fact that waits tables every weekend and makes fairly decent tips.

Rachel goes about putting away the groceries, and Bekah joins her to "help." It's not like there's a ton to do considering the kitchen is approximately the size of a gym locker and the cabinet space can be equated to something suitable for a family of mice. Still, there's somehow enough room for the two bags of food Rachel brings in from the corner market. When Bekah opens one of the cabinets to put away the tea, though, she pulls out a small bottle of prenatal vitamins and looks at Rachel questioningly, raising one eyebrow in the exact same infuriating way her brother does.

At first, Rachel doesn't know what to say. They agreed to keep it a secret for now, and she doesn't feel right telling his sister when he's not around. Of course, the prenatal vitamins and the OBGYN appointment card tacked to the refrigerator with a magnet sort of speak for themselves.

"My mom is going to _kill _you for not telling her," Bekah says without even asking if her suspicions are right. "How far along are you?"

There's no point in denying it now. "Thirteen weeks."

"Thirteen _weeks?" _Bekah laughs. "She is going to murder you both."

"We've only known for a few." Four to be exact- a _lot _has happened in four weeks. "We just wanted to wait to tell people until we were sure everything was okay."

Bekah just shakes her head with a little bit of a smirk.

"Don't say anything," Rachel tells her seriously, and she's met with an all too familiar eye roll.

"Are you kidding? I'm not getting in the middle of that!"

Then she gets really happy and jumps around a lot, giddy over the fact that she's going to be an aunt. Rachel texts Noah and warns him that his sister knows, so when he gets home from work, he's not shocked at Bekah's sudden knowledge. He _does_ give her fifty bucks, though, and tells her that if she tells anyone, she'll have to give it back. Rachel's not really worried, though, and neither is he. They both know Bekah can keep a secret, and bribing her never really hurts, either.

It doesn't take long before they _do _have to fill in the rest of the world, though.

'The rest of the world' basically consists of their parents, which is fine because, really, for once in her life, Rachel isn't really craving the spotlight and attention. She tells her dads, and he tells his mom, and that's exactly the way she wants it. Everyone's really happy for them, and his mom doesn't totally freak out and go crazy like they both expected she would. She doesn't even yell at them for keeping it a secret. And now that it's finally out there in the open, Rachel starts feeling like the whole thing's a little more _real._

She starts getting the nausea she thought she was immune to, and she can't understand why she's getting it now when everything she's read states that most of it comes in the first and third trimester and that the second one's supposed to be the "easy" one. She certainly doesn't find it easy, and she isn't exactly thrilled that she's craving bacon at all hours of the day. She hasn't had a slice of bacon since she was in seventh grade, so to suddenly want it _so _badly really throws her for a loop. And even Noah, who is ecstatic that she finally wants to eat meat, starts to tire of her cravings- mostly because she starts developing a serious attitude and begins making way more demands of him than she ever has before. And she can always tell when he's about a BLT away from screaming at her and taking a stand, so she reigns it in a little bit.

The upside to pregnancy, though, is that her sex drive is out of control, and when she's not craving bacon, she's nearly always up for it. He really likes that, too, but she knows it's excessive when a point comes where he's actually turning her down and telling her that he needs to sleep because he's already too tired for work the next day. That doesn't go over too well with her, and she pouts a little until he gives in and gives it to her. And he makes it to work anyway, although she's sure he's falling asleep.

Her body starts changing just a little bit, and she notices things that Noah swears he can't see. She thinks it's nice that he pretends not to notice that her feet are getting wider and that her face is rounder than it's ever been. The only thing he admits to seeing is the change in her boobs, and she wonders why it's not possible to have pregnancy boobs all the time because they are seriously awesome.

One morning, though, just as she's about to get in the shower, she catches a glimpse of her body in the mirror and sees the tiniest bit of roundness just over her belly button. It shocks her because she hasn't been "showing" at all up to that point. This little bump seems to have just turned up over night, and she spends a full hour in front of the mirror staring at it from all angles and being more than just a little bit amazed.

When Noah gets home, she shows him, too, and he doesn't even pretend that she's imagining things. She doesn't mind at all considering the way he stares at her in awe is maybe the most beautiful thing she's ever seen.

It becomes pretty obvious, but he's the one who actually brings it up.

"We need to move."

Rachel knows he's right, but it doesn't make her feel any better. This tiny little apartment has been her home from the first night she spent in the city. She's lived here through everything- through all her ugly struggling, through her success, and finally through her first live-in boyfriend. She won't pretend that it's anything it's not, though. It's cute and nicely-located, but it's small and rented, and if they're going to have a family, they probably need something larger and with a more permanent sort of residency. And so the search begins.

They look at literally hundreds of ads and visit a ton. They never agree on anything, though. If she loves the closet space in one, he hates the location of the water heater. If he thinks the location is great, she thinks it smells bad because of the fish taco cart that's set up just outside. It starts getting pretty ridiculous, and even their realtor starts tiring of them. It all comes to a head, though, and they get into a huge fight one night when she absolutely refuses to budge on an Upper West-Side two bedroom that he claims is "perfect."

"The layout is stupid!" she argues, pointing to the floorplan furiously. "The bathroom is literally right next to the kitchen. That's disgusting!"

And then he loses any semblance of patience he's managed to hang onto.

"Jesus fucking _Christ, _Rachel! Every single place in this whole goddamn city smells like the sewer, so why should the location of the bathroom even be a fucking _issue?"_

"Because you don't shit where you eat, Noah," she bites out furiously. "That's common knowledge."

"Well, excuse me for not giving a damn about where someone's flushing while the microwave heats up last night's take-out!"

"I cook!" she says heatedly. "Don't act like I don't cook!" She doesn't really, but that's hardly the point.

And it just goes downhill from there.

They end up getting into another argument that's got the old crazy downstairs beating on the ceiling again. They yell about a lot of things that have absolutely nothing to do with house-hunting, and Rachel cries for about five minutes and throws a candle across the room. He tells her to stop being so dramatic, and that makes her even madder. They bitch back and forth until he finally grabs her and kisses her and tells her to "shut the hell up." And she doesn't even argue with him or tell him he's not allowed to order her around. She just lets him push her up against the wall and fuck her _in _the kitchen. And it makes her think that maybe the bathroom isn't that big of a deal.

Later, when they've properly made up and are sitting together on the couch looking at more housing ads on his laptop, she leans her head against his shoulder and says what she should have been saying all along. "It doesn't matter where we live. It'll be perfect because it'll really be ours."

They end up settling on a three bedroom fourth-floor walk up in Brooklyn.

It's not centrally located, but the price is better than anything they've seen in Manhattan. It actually makes sense to live there, considering the fact that Noah works in Brooklyn and has been making the commute the entire time he's been in New York. Rachel loved her midtown apartment because it was so close to her own work, but she's started to accept that she's probably not going to work again for awhile. So maybe moving out here is the best option.

There's a mortgage with a payment that seems really daunting considering the fact that they're currently a one-income family. And it's definitely not like his teacher's salary is a goldmine or anything… Still, Rachel's managed to put a lot into savings over the past few years, and they're able to make a pretty sizeable down payment. There's just not a whole lot leftover in the savings account to give them very much comfort. Still, money comes in fairly regularly from residuals of things like CD sales, and she can still do public appearances, which pay a decent amount. And really, maybe she won't have to be out of the business _that _long.

She hopes not because sometimes she misses it so badly that she literally aches.

They have their first ultrasound a week before moving day, and Rachel thinks she might cry when she sees the tiny little ball on the screen and the quick flashing of a tiny beating heart. She doesn't expect to feel so overwhelmed, and she's sure that Noah's going to tease her when he catches sight of her watery eyes, but he looks completely entranced, too, and she just takes his hand and stares with him. The baby doesn't want to cooperate, though, and even though the ultrasound tech tells them that it's sometimes possible to tell the baby's sex at that point, they're going to have to wait until their little one is more ready to spread its legs.

They move into their new home on a Saturday, and Rachel doesn't anticipate the ridiculous rush of sadness that washes over her as she watches the last of their boxes being loaded into the moving truck. Her tiny little apartment is totally empty and suddenly looks a lot bigger than it ever has before. She does one last walk-through, pausing in each room to say a silent goodbye and trying to commit it all to memory. Noah doesn't have the same attachment and is already downstairs giving directions to the movers. She cries a little bit right before she turns the inside lock. She leaves the key on the entryway windowsill and closes the door behind her.

Although she's complained about it before, Rachel is more than happy to play the helpless pregnancy card while their belongings are being moved into the new apartment. There are a lot of stairs between the street and the fourth floor apartment, and she intends to only climb them one time that day. She supervises while the movers bring things in, and she directs them where to take things. A few of Noah's friends are over, and they're helping carry things up, too. Despite the fact that they normally annoy her to no end, Rachel doesn't mind their presence one bit at the moment. Bekah and her roommate are over, and Rachel delegates them to help her supervise and unpack boxes. One of the movers is particularly attractive, and she watches in mild amusement as the roommate, Ellie, flirts shamelessly with someone who is not only much older than her but is also wearing a wedding ring. It kind of makes her wish she was nineteen again- not that she did much flirting at that age, but the little bit she did was fun.

She hands out beers and waters and sodas and whatever else the helpers want while she puts away the dishes in the kitchen and yells at Bekah for dropping a whole box of glasses. Then she apologizes and helps her clean up. She doesn't know why she's suddenly turned into such a bitch, but it scares her a little bit. Everyone else just seems to blame it on hormones, and it's really the only decent excuse she has.

Between the move and the baby, Rachel doesn't have much time for work on the musical, but she makes it to a few rehearsals and a showcase and feels worse than she imagines when she meets with the director and tells him that she needs to pull out. It's not like she has any huge attachment to the show or to the other members of the workshop cast, but she believes in it- believes in _them, _and she wants to see it through. When her last show closed, she didn't go back to auditioning because she wanted to be part of something from the ground up. It makes her sad that she's not going to get that chance. But she tells herself that there are other shows and that there will be other opportunities. After the baby's born.

His mom starts nagging her about marriage, and it's a shock to no one. She's already been in on Noah, who has mostly just ignored her and told her to mind her own business. Rachel's not that rude, though, so she listens and tries as nicely as possible to explain that they're not getting married. She isn't sure why it's such a hard concept for people to grasp. She doesn't know why it's so hard to accept that some people just don't see marriage as a necessary aspect of life. For Rachel, it's personal and has everything to do with the fact that her own parents were never married and still aren't allowed that right. For Noah, it's mostly to do with Rachel. He would marry her if she wanted him to, and she knows that. But he isn't opposed to the way things are now, and he has no problem adopting an _if it's not broken, don't fix it _attitude. Lots of people think it's strange, though, and most of their friends still don't seem to believe they're serious. His mother doesn't believe it, either, and Rachel knows she's just expecting a surprise wedding shocker to be thrown in right before her grandchild is born. But it's just not happening.

They talk about it one night, after he gets home from work and after she's spent half the afternoon on the phone with his mom. They curl up in their new living room and eat Thai food straight out of the containers.

"Your mom almost started crying today."

"Jesus fuck, about what? About getting married?" He rolls his eyes and stabs at some food.

Rachel nods. "I don't think she believes us."

"Did you tell her to mind her own goddamn business?"

"Of course I didn't," she says indignantly. "I'm not that disrespectful."

"_She's _the disrespectful one," he argues. "It's our life."

And she likes that he said _life _and not _lives _because that shows he thinks of them as completely together. And that's what matters to her. She doesn't care about a ring or a piece of paper. She just wants to know that he's there with her and for her, and she does, so that's all that matters.

She starts showing quite a bit more, and her clothes get too tight. She makes Bekah go shopping with her, and someone on the subway stops her and asks for an autograph. She smiles and obliges and feels kind of awkward because other people are looking, and she knows the rest of them have no idea who she is. Bekah just raises an eyebrow.

"That's fucking weird, Rachel," she says bluntly once their off the train and out of earshot.

Rachel just shrugs one shoulder. "It doesn't happen a lot."

And it doesn't. She's not an overly recognizable person, and the people who do recognize her mostly leave her alone. It's New York, and there are unspoken rules here about that sort of thing. Even when actual celebrities randomly show up in coffee shops, people leave them alone. Well, _New Yorkers _leave them alone- they don't have the same luck with tourists who want autographs and camera phone pictures and all that sort of thing. Rachel did those things at stage door when she was working, and she loved it. In everyday life, though, she doesn't often get recognized walking down the street, and she _rarely _gets stopped.

They spend a whole afternoon shopping, and Rachel feels like she used to feel when she had a lot of money and nothing to spend it on or save for. She goes a little overboard, but it's difficult not to when there are so many cute things that she feels like she just has to have. It doesn't help that Bekah does nothing to discourage her. She's a bad influence, actually, always pulling more things off the rack and saying how adorable they are and how cute they'll look. So when they get back to the apartment that night, both of them are weighted down with bagfuls of maternity clothes, and Noah looks at them like they're crazy. He doesn't ask how much they spent, and neither volunteers the information. They both just go to work reorganizing her closet while he watches baseball in the other room.

They go for another ultrasound at the end of May, and this time the tech tells them she's got a clear view of the 'baby's bits.' She asks if they want to know, and they're both in agreement that, yes, they definitely want to know. And Rachel really _does _cry when the tech points to the screen and says, "_There's your little girl."_

After that, things get very, very real. It's no longer just a baby- it's a baby _girl. _And that means they can start naming her and buying her things and getting her nursery ready. And for the first time since she's been pregnant, Rachel doesn't miss her old life at all. Everything is just too exciting, and she starts loving every second of it.

They argue over names, just like they've argued over everything else. They both know they have to use a Hebrew name or risk death by his mom, but there aren't a ton of really cute baby girl names. He wants things like Hannah or Sarah, and she says they're too simple and common. And he accuses her of only trying to pick names that will sound good on a marquee or in a Playbill. She counters this by arguing that _nothing _is going to sound very super-starish next to Berry-Puckerman.

He kind of agrees.

They go home to Lima one weekend for a baby shower. Bekah goes with them, and they rent a car because it's cheaper than flying and also because they'll need the space on the way back when they're loaded down with baby gear. It's a very long drive, made even longer because Rachel has to stop for the bathroom every hour. Bekah spends the entire trip in the backseat with her iPod and a Western Civ book. Rachel, not for the first time, thinks she's very put-together and mature. She's taking summer classes and picking up more hours at work. She's very smart and keeps a 4.0. She doesn't party a lot, rarely drinks and never does drugs, and she's made it all the way through the end of her sophomore year of college with her virginity intact. She is sort of the opposite of her brother, but Rachel thinks maybe you always learn from example- whether to copy or whether to do the opposite.

The baby makes the car ride extremely uncomfortable because not only has she apparently taken up permanent residency right on top of Rachel's bladder, but she's started kicking a lot, too, which Noah says means she's going to be a soccer player and which Rachel says just means she's evil. Rachel tries to sleep for a little while, but she can't get comfortable, and she feels a little nauseous. Noah rubs the back of her neck while she closes her eyes and tries to block out the feeling, and then he kisses the side of her head when she leans it over to rest on his shoulder. She feels very lucky, but she's also very glad when they finally get to Lima. It's late, and she's exhausted, but they make the rounds and say hi to everyone before finally settling in at his mom's house. She's harder to reason with than Rachel's own parents are. They just smile and understand when she explains why she won't be staying with them. His mom, though, would take it as a personal attack if they chose to stay anywhere else.

It's nice, though, to be home. And it _does _feel like home. They never come here, and they are both fully settled into New York City lives, but there's something about the quiet calm here that's sort of nice and sort of makes her wish that there were more it around in New York. Plus, she likes being waited on. Noah does a good job, of course, but he doesn't make huge breakfasts and dinners and spend every second fussing like his mom does. Rachel's not going to pretend like she doesn't enjoy it because she does. And she knows he does, too, even if he complains nonstop about her 'nagging.'

The baby shower is nice, but Rachel's a little weirded out by it. She doesn't have a lot of connections with Lima anymore, so it's mostly cousins and aunts she doesn't really know, some of their friends from high school who neither of them really talk to anymore, and a few random people from his mom's work who she has seriously never met before. Her own parents don't go overboard and invite people she doesn't know. They draw the line at the cousins she hasn't seen in ten years. It's okay, though, because everyone acts like they know each other- everyone's nice and has a good time. They get a ton of things- mostly adorable little dresses that the baby will never have time to wear- but also some important things, like nursery décor and a stroller and what has to be twenty packs of diapers. People squeal over her belly and tell her how 'cute' she is when she knows they just mean gigantic. She's still got three months to go, and she already can't imagine how she's going to even fit through the doorway by the time the baby comes.

She's sad when it's time to go back to New York and cries when she goes to her dads' to say goodbye. She thinks that the next time she sees them, she's probably going to be a mom, and it all feels like too much for a second. She sort of wants them to tuck her into bed and treat her like a five year old, but she knows the time for all that has passed. They both kiss her and tell her they love her and to call for whatever she needs. She doesn't want to leave, but she has to. It's almost just as sad when they say goodbye to his mom, too, because she starts crying and tells them both that she loves them and that she's happy and that she can't wait to meet the baby and a bunch of other stuff that Rachel loses because somewhere along the line, she's started crying again, too.

She switches places with Bekah on the way home, wanting the backseat so she can stretch out some. It's difficult, though, now that the car has been loaded down with baby shower presents. Still, she manages to get at least somewhat comfortable and sleeps for a good portion of the ride, trying really hard not to feel as sad about leaving their parents as she really does. By the time they make it back to New York, it's early morning, and they drop Bekah off at her dorm before driving back to Brooklyn. He practically has to carry Rachel up the stairs because she's so exhausted. She goes straight to bed, feeling bad that he's making approximately fifty trips up and down the stairs to unload the car. She's too tired to do anything about it, though, and she's asleep long before he ever makes it to bed.

They start decorating the nursery. She loves it because it's fun and it gives her something to do. He likes it less because he's teaching summer school and working all the time, and he's generally tired when he gets home. He also gets annoyed because he claims, _"Pink is fucking pink," _and doesn't understand that there are shades and tones and accents to consider. But he does all the things she tells him to do anyway, like paint and put the crib together and go to the store for a matching changing table. She does things like hang up all the cute dresses on tiny pink hangers and fix the bedding up to look perfectly adorable. He grumbles a lot but stops complaining when he realizes it's not going to get him anywhere.

They have another baby shower- this one for their New York friends. It's a little more laid back than the one in Lima was. There are no party games or brightly colored punch. They drink cocktails (Rachel drinks seltzer) and munch on bakery-fresh baguettes while Rachel opens the gifts and loves every second of it. There are more clothes and more diapers, but there's a spa package, pampering bubble bath, even a pair of silk pajamas that are all exclusively for Rachel and not for the little munchkin holding court in her belly.

About a month before the baby's due, he's got some time off before the new school year begins, and he tells her that he wants to take her out of the city for a few days and just relax. She can barely move these days because her stomach's so big, but she agrees that they need a few days away from everything. They're not going to have the opportunity again for God only knows how long. So he takes her a little upstate, and they check into a bed and breakfast.

He spends the whole time being absolutely perfect and telling her how much he loves her and how happy he is. And none of it really sounds like his normal self, but out of the city and secluded, he seems a lot more open and even kind of more emotional. They spend three days just by themselves and with each other, both knowing that this is it for awhile.

He gives her a ring on their last morning there, and he tells her it's not an engagement ring, it's just a promise. And that he wants her to have it and always know that he's there no matter what. And she ends up sobbing because it seems to be all she can do lately, and it's really hard to express how totally in love she is because words don't even seem to be enough. And she starts thinking that it's really not fair to make pregnant women cry, but she loves him anyway.

She goes into labor two weeks early when Noah's out of town at an education conference the school is making all the teachers attend before the start of the new year. She starts feeling a few pains early in the morning, but she ignores it and convinces herself that it's nothing. She doesn't tell Noah, either, knowing that he would freak out and stay home from work. By eleven o'clock, though, she can hardly move, and she has no choice but to believe that the baby's coming and that she's probably coming soon. Trying her best not to panic, she calls her boyfriend and gets his voicemail. That doesn't do much to calm her down, but she keeps her cool, having prepared for this moment countless times in her head. Her doctor is in Manhattan, which may not be the smartest choice, but she was already attached by the time they chose their new home. She calls the office and lets them know she's going to the hospital, and they tell her they will contact the doctor and let him know. After that, she calls herself a taxi because there's no way she's riding the train while she's in labor. She grabs the bag out of the closet and checks to make sure she's got everything, even though she's packed it and repacked it a thousand times over the past few weeks. Then she tries Noah one more time before giving up and calling his sister. Bekah doesn't answer, either, but she calls back just as Rachel's putting her shoes on.

"Hey," Rachel says a little breathlessly, trying very hard not to focus on the dull ache she can feel under her ribs. "Are you busy?"

"I'm in class. What's wrong?"

Rachel draws in a steadying breath. "Oh, go back to class then. Sorry, I didn't mean to get you out."

"No, what's wrong?"

"I'm going to the hospital." Rachel closes her eyes as another pain creeps around from her back to her center.

"Are you in labor?"

"I think so," she bites out, crushing down on her back teeth against the pain. "Noah's out of town… I left him a voicemail."

"Do you want me to come get you?" Bekah sounds half-panicked, which doesn't do much for Rachel's own nerves. She knows that by _come get you, _Bekah means come over and ride together, as neither of them have a car.

"No, I called a taxi. Just… If you can, just meet me at the hospital."

She feels bad asking her to skip class, but she's starting to get really scared. And she needs someone with her. She gives her the rest of the details, which hospital, which entrance, etc., and then hangs up and tries to make her way downstairs to wait for the taxi. She struggles, though, gripping onto the banister tightly. A neighbor she's never met before sees her and helps her down, grabbing her bag and steadying her down the stairs. He asks if she needs him to ride with her when the cab pulls up, but Rachel just shakes her head and thanks him before climbing into the back of the taxi and telling him which hospital.

It takes forever got there because the traffic is terrible, and they pass about four accidents. The driver sees her trying to breathe and squeezing her eyes shut against pain, and he does his best to speed and break as many traffic laws as possible to get her to the hospital as quickly as possible. She curses the fact that she didn't switch to a Brooklyn doctor, but it's too late now. She tries to call Noah four more times, but each time she gets his voicemail after one ring. By the fourth time, she's practically screaming into the phone that he needs to answer and call her back.

When they finally make it to the hospital, the driver pulls up to the curb and immediately jumps out to help her with her bag and with getting out of the car. Rachel slips him some money and thanks him, turning gratefully to Bekah who is waiting rather impatiently outside the entrance. She grabs the bag and slings it over her shoulder before grabbing Rachel and practically dragging her into the hospital.

The receptionist looks up and asks how she can help them as though it isn't obvious by the heavily pregnant woman practically breaking her face in pain. Bekah seems to realize the idiocy of it, too, because she not-so-politely replies, "My sister-in-law's having a baby, and she kind of needs some assistance!"

The receptionist hands over a clipboard. "Fill this out, and we'll call you back as soon as possible."

Rachel can't believe it and didn't actually think it would be like the movies when she went into labor. The only thing missing is her water breaking in the middle of the waiting room. Bekah looks like she's about to cuss somebody out, and Rachel really doesn't trust her not to, so she just grabs the clipboard and pulls her over to some empty seats.

She fills out the paperwork as quickly as she can while Bekah glares at anyone who dares to glance in their direction and calls her brother over and over and over as though that's going to make him pick up. Then she grabs the clipboard from Rachel when she's finished filling it out, takes back up the desk, and snaps something that Rachel can't quite hear because the pain is back, and it's kind of hard to breathe.

She gets called back pretty quickly after that, though, and a nurse comes up with a wheelchair and takes her back to the labor and delivery wing. Bekah follows quickly, trying to carry her schoolbag and the overnight bag on one shoulder. And then after that, things go pretty smoothly. Rachel gets settled in, a nurse helps her change out of her clothes and into the hospital gown, and then she's lying in a bed with a heated blanket and some ice water, and everything seems infinitely better. Except for the fact that Bekah's in the corner leaving some hateful voicemail with enough cussing to offend just about anyone, and Noah's still not there or anywhere close apparently.

Another nurse comes in and checks on, tells her she's just a couple of centimeters and that everything's fine. While she's checking her out, though, Rachel's phone rings, and Bekah grabs it so that she doesn't have to be rude while she's with the nurse. She still lets out a sigh of relief when she hears Bekah answer it with a, "Where the fuck are you, you dumbass?"

The nurse glances up, and Rachel just offers her an awkward smile. She keeps one eye and ear on Bekah, though, even though the nurse is telling her something that's probably important. She doesn't really care, though, she just wants to know where Noah is and how long it's going to take him to get here.

"I don't give a shit where you are," Bekah says, lowering her voice and speaking through clenched teeth because apparently she's noticed the nurse giving strange looks. "If you want someone to catch your kid, you better get here fast because I don't care how much I love her, I'm not staring at your girlfriend's cooch for you!"

Rachel slaps a hand over her eyes and tries very hard to disappear. She refuses to believe this moment is actually happening, and it's not until the nurse is patting her shoulder and telling her she'll be back in a little while that she actually lets herself open her eyes again. She glares at Bekah and holds out her hand expectantly for the phone. She is much calmer when she puts it to her ear.

"Where are you?" she asks quietly.

"I'm on my way." He seems relieved to hear her voice instead of his sister's. "Baby, I'm sorry, I left my phone in my coat, and I…"

"It's okay," she cuts him off, drawing in a calming breath. "Just get here."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she says quietly, suddenly wanting to cry. "I just want you here."

"I'll be there," he says seriously. "I swear. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt too badly right now." And that's not a lie. At this exact moment, she doesn't really feel any pain. That doesn't mean it'll last very long. "Noah, just hurry, okay?"

"I am, I'll be there."

She closes her eyes and tries to stop the tears she knows are about to fall for no reason. "Okay," she says quietly.

"Call me if you need me, okay? For anything."

She nods and then realizes she has to actually say something. "Okay."

"I love you."

She breathes in through her nose slowly. "I love you, too…"

The nurse comes back several times after that, checking to see how she's progressing and if she needs anything. The only thing she _needs _is in a taxi on his way back to Manhattan, and even though she knows he's on his way, she's still nervous and wants to see him as quickly as possible. At one point, Bekah's phone rings, and she answers it in her normal annoyed way. It doesn't take long for Rachel to figure out who she's talking to.

"No, he's not here. He went out of town like a dumbass and then couldn't be bothered to answer his phone… Yeah, supposedly… No, Mom, she's like screaming and shit… No, she's having a baby."

Rachel looks at Bekah with raised eyebrows. She has not, in fact, screamed yet. She has let out several loud groans, but she has yet to scream. Bekah rolls her eyes.

"Do you want to talk to my mom, or are you already in too much pain?"

Rachel would laugh under normal circumstances, but she's not going to be mean right now. There will be plenty of time for that shortly, she's sure. So she just holds out her hand for the phone and bites the bullet.

"Hi," she says softly, trying really hard to concentrate on her breathing so that the pain in her back lessens some.

"Hi, sweetie. Oh, honey, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay…"

And then she gets hit by a hundred mile an hour talking that she can barely understand because of the ridiculous ache in her lower back and the fact that her lungs literally feel like they can't draw in enough air. She wants to know when she can get some drugs, and she motions for Bekah to go get the nurse so she can ask. She gives a lot of "Mmm-hmms" and "I'm okays" and "I promise I'm fines" as answers, and even though she knows it's all in concern, she really wants to hang up now.

"We'll keep you updated, I promise," she says quickly, butting right into the middle of a sentence. "The nurse is coming, though, so I have to go. Love you." She hangs up, knowing that the nurse is not coming and that she really just needed an excuse to get off the phone. She sets Bekah's phone down on the table beside the bed and closes her eyes, trying to get comfortable so that the pain lessens some. Her contractions aren't terrible yet, but the dull ache that's stretching from her back around to her front is very distracting and uncomfortable.

Luckily, though, Bekah and the nurse return pretty quickly, and Rachel opens her eyes pleadingly. "When can I have an epidural?" she asks, not even considering the option of having the baby without one. She wants to be in as little pain as possible, and she knows that the best way to accomplish that is through drugs.

"We have to wait for your doctor to check you. I think he's on his way, though, so it shouldn't be too much longer."

Rachel nods and swallows the lump that's forming in her throat. The nurse smiles sympathetically and helps move her pillows into a better position. "I saw you in _RENT," _she says conversationally. "A few years ago. It was really good."

Rachel tries to force her own smile. "Thanks."

"Have you done anything since then?"

She knows the nurse is just trying to talk and get her mind off the pain, and she appreciates the effort. Still… "Oh, you know," she says, pulling in a sharp breath, "just pregnancy…"

She's trying to make a joke, and the nurse laughs a little awkwardly. There have been other things between _RENT _and pregnancy, but now hardly seems like the time to discuss them, given the fact that she's about to push an infant out of her vagina. Talking about work seems a little ridiculous right about now.

Noah makes it there before the doctor, and by that point, she's having full-on contractions that hurt so badly they're bringing on tears. And those tears turn into full sobs the second he walks in the door, though she doesn't even know why. She's overly emotional and scared and already exhausted, and seeing him finally get there just seems to push her over the edge. She's crying into the front of his shirt within seconds, and he just holds and pets her head and, she's sure, has some sort of silent conversation with his sister over her head.

She starts crying that the doctor's not there and that they won't give her any medicine and that it hurts so badly she can't see and that she hasn't even called her dads yet and that she can't have this baby without some kind of medicine and that she's too scared to be a mom right now and that she was supposed to have two more weeks and that it all feels wrong. And he just pets her hair and tells her it's going to be okay, and she kind of believes him. Because what other choice does she have?

Her doctor does eventually show up, and he breaks her water and orders her an epidural. And after that, things happen a lot more easily. She hardly feels any pain at all, just a lot of pressure. Her labor starts progressing a lot more quickly once her water's broken, and the doctor tells her it won't be long. Noah gets her dads on the phone and fills them in on what's going on, and she talks to them and they tell her they love her and will see her soon. Bekah says she doesn't want to be anywhere near the room when 'shit gets real' and makes Rachel promise she'll give her fair warning and not just pop the baby out randomly. She tries to take a little nap because all the nurses and her doctor tell her that she needs as much rest as possible before it's time to push, but it's hard to fall asleep, and she gets maybe an hour and a half total.

Abigail Sophia Berry-Puckerman arrives just under seven hours later, and by that point, Rachel wants to sue her doctor for false advertisement because that's definitely not what she considers 'not long now.' She doesn't care once the baby's here, though, because all she can do is stare at that little ball of perfection and cry because she's honestly never seen anything so beautiful. She doesn't even think she's being biased, she thinks it's a legitimate fact that this 8 lb 7 oz bundle of chubby cheeks and curly black hair is the epitome of perfection and the most beautiful child to ever be born. And then when Noah holds her, Rachel just cries even more because he's staring at her the same way she knows _she's _staring at her. And it's all just way too much for emotions right now.

She's got Abby back when he leaves to go get Bekah, and then she shows up and starts crying, too. She holds her and coos at her and bounces her just a little bit, and Rachel thinks she must have really lucked out and landed in a family with people she loves so much. Noah goes into the hallway for a few minutes to make some phone calls and spread the news, and Bekah sits down on the edge of the bed and carefully moves the baby's hat back a little.

"I can't believe how much hair she's got," she says in awe, gently fingering one of the curls. Then she looks up and smiles. "She looks just like you."

Rachel smiles and looks down wonderingly. "You think? But look at that nose… That's all Puckerman."

Bekah smiles again and runs a finger over Abby's nose. She's quiet for a second, and Rachel kind of thinks she's going to start crying again. But then she looks up and is uncharacteristically serious for once. "He's going to be a really good dad." Rachel can't help the smile that seems permanently etched on her face, so she just nods in agreement. She knows he will. Bekah keeps going, though, and Rachel kind of feels her heart break for a second. "Trust me. I'd know."

And when Noah comes back, Bekah hands Abby back over to Rachel and then hugs her brother for a good two minutes, during which he kind of stands there stunned and awkwardly pats her on the back. Then he goes over and joins Rachel and they stare at the new baby for hours and don't do much of anything else.

The next couple of weeks are hectic, and there are visitors- both their friends from the city and their families who fly in from Ohio. They don't have any furniture set up in the extra bedroom yet, and Rachel's thankful because it means they don't actually have to _host _their guests. Her dads come, and his mom comes, and everyone falls immediately in love with Abby and treats her exactly like she's the little goddess that she is. Still, it's a welcome break when all the visits stop, and it's just the three of them in their new little family.

Noah has to go back to school, and Rachel stays home with the baby, loving every second of it and wondering why the hell she ever thought this wouldn't be the greatest thing in the world. Her little baby girl is beautiful and perfect. She's happy most of the time, rarely crying and then only when she actually needs something. She's not fussy, which is a relief because Rachel wasn't sure a newborn could handle a hybrid of the tempers she might inherit from her parents. Abby seems to be the opposite, though- laid back and content and not at all overly-dramatic.

She grows so quickly, Rachel can't believe it. And time just starts flying by, it's crazy. They fall into an easy routine, and life really does seem perfect. Rachel does all the things the baby books encourage- she talks to Abby in a grown-up voice, she reads to her, she exposes her to different shapes and colors to stimulate her mind, she sings to her every single day. Noah does things no baby book would ever encourage- his idea of stimulating the baby's mind is holding her while he plays video games. Still, there's an easy balance, and while Abby might get more intellectually out of _The Hungry Caterpillar, _she laughs more when her daddy is blowing up zombies. But Rachel makes him play guitar for the baby, and sometimes she sings while he plays and sometimes she doesn't. She wants Abby to have as much musical exposure as possible, and she leaves Mozart playing in the nursery all night long.

She _loves _playing dress up with the baby, and she changes her clothes at least two or three times a day, sometimes more. She's just so cute that it's impossible to not want to dress her up nonstop all the time. One day when Abby's about three months old, she gives her a bath and then puts her in the most adorable outfit. It's sparkly, and there's a tutu, and there are even baby little ballet shoes that Rachel nearly fell over herself to buy. It looks absolutely perfect, and Rachel goes for the camera, knowing this is one of those outfits that _has _to be documented. Before she takes the picture, though, she runs her fingers through Abby's curls, trying to smooth them out a little from the bath. It's purely coincidental when her hair ends up spiked toward the middle in a nearly perfect fauxhawk. And when Rachel sees it, she can't get to her phone quickly enough.

It's one of those moments that's too perfect to be real.

After she snaps the photo and sends the picture, she waits patiently for a reply as she tickles Abby and sings her "My Favorite Things." She smiles when her phone buzzes back, and she reads that Noah loves it and thinks they should cut her hair like that. She texts back quickly to let him know that if he ever cuts her little girl's hair into a Mohawk, she'll be cutting off something he's rather fond of.

And it's the first time she's mentioned his penis via text message since before the baby was born, so she thinks he's probably going to take it as a good thing regardless.

It's hard to believe how happy she is right now, and as she picks Abby up and hums "Climb Ev'ry Mountain" (she tries to keep the music themed each day), she wonders how it's even possible that she could have been so wrong about what would make her happiest. She doesn't have a Tony. She's never even had a lead role. But it doesn't matter because she's _made _it, and now she has more than she ever thought she'd have.

And maybe surprises aren't that bad after all.

… … …


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